Never Been Kissed
by caremkefo
Summary: When Castiel's brother dies, he summons a crossroads demon in order to bring him back.


_Very_ loosely inspired by this Tumblr post.

I want to come back and write more of this, but I'm putting it up here as a one-shot for now.

Unbeta'd.

* * *

Castiel Milton's hands trembled as he dropped the bone he'd dug out of their garden into the box. The family cat, Salem, had died a few years ago. He'd been heartbroken at the time, but now Castiel was grateful. Where else would he have gotten the bone of a black cat? That's not exactly the sort of thing you could buy off of ebay.

This was crazy. He and his family might be religious, but that didn't mean he thought that angels and demons were _real_. But that didn't stop him from opening his wallet, fumbling to pull his student ID out of its holder. Before adding it to the box, he ran down the list of 'ingredients' his friend Crowley had told him he would need - everything from graveyard dirt to horse hair.

He had everything.

He threw his ID into the box and slapped the lid down, denting the thin cardboard. But that didn't matter. He tied it up with string to make sure nothing fell out and took a swig of Gabriel's whiskey, grimacing at the burn that travelled down into his stomach. He hated alcohol, but he desperately needed some Dutch courage. What if Crowley was right? What if there were such things as monsters?

He climbed into Gabriel's truck and placed the box carefully on the passenger seat, next to a small garden trowel. The radio came on automatically as the engine roared to life, but he turned it off again. His brother was dead. Now was not the time for the cheesy pop tunes the older Milton favoured.

It was his fault his brother was dead. If he'd only taken a cab home instead of asking Gabriel to come and pick him up, Castiel wouldn't have buried him that morning. He turned right at the end of his road, heading out of town to the crossroads near the old abandoned farmhouse. It was one of only two dirt crossroads nearby, and the only one with yarrow flowers growing.

Crowley had said they were important.

He slowed to a stop as he arrived, leaving his headlights on so that he could see what he was doing. Judging where the exact centre of the crossroads was he got to his knees and started to dig, praying that nobody would drive by. It took him longer than he thought to dig a suitable-sized hole, into which he placed the shoebox and covered it up again before settling down to wait.

It was only a matter of seconds before a man appeared; a man more beautiful than any Castiel had ever laid eyes on, smartly dressed in a crisp white shirt and black suit and tie. Castiel frowned. He didn't know what he'd expected, but this man wasn't it. He was too... _clean_.

"Hey, dude."

Castiel squinted at the stranger.

"I'm guessing you want to make a deal, otherwise I wouldn't be here."

"Who are you?"

The man faltered. "Dean," he said, after a moment. "At least, that's the name this dude went by before I started wearing him," he said, motioning at his body. "I can't remember what I was called before I took this meatsuit."

p align="center". * * * ./p

"I don't understand."

Dean looked at the blue-eyed man, still sitting in the middle of the road. Usually when people summoned him to make a deal they knew exactly what they wanted and it was a case of "ten years" and a quick snog before he was on his way.

But this guy... It was like he didn't believe he'd actually _summoned_ Dean.

"You get that I'm a demon, right?" he asked.

The man nodded warily.

"So you tell me what you want, and if I can give it to you - and I've never been asked for something I can't do - then we make a deal. You get ten years before..." Dean trailed off, reading the human's soul for the first time. He'd seen a lot of souls in his time, but never one this bright. Not one that hadn't just been born. He was so innocent, and pure. "What's your name?"

"Cas- Castiel," he answered. Then his mouth twitched in a hesitant smirk. "Me _and_ my 'meatsuit'."

Dean laughed. Oh, he liked this guy. Castiel, who was kind and never hateful, honest and helpful, and who had never had sex. Castiel, who was barely seventeen. Cas, who was young and naïve and beautiful and _foolish_ if he thought that making a deal with a demon was a viable option. For the first time in Dean's life - or death, he supposed - he wanted to tell a client that _nothing_ was worth selling their soul for. But he had a job to do. If he didn't, he'd get demoted at best. At worst, he'd find himself back on the wrong side of Alastair's rack. He shuddered at the thought.

"So what can I do for you, Cas?"

"Can you bring my brother back?" he asked quietly, hopefully.

"Back?"

"He died."

An echo of something like grief resonated through Dean, and he couldn't pinpoint its origin. He dismissed it.

"And you want me to bring him back to life?"

"Yes." Castiel's voice was a mere whisper, this time.

"You do realise there's a price for this?"

Castiel nodded.

"And I'm not talking money or favours, here. I'm talking your _soul_."

Castiel flinched, but nodded resolutely.

"You'll get a one-way ticket downstairs. It's not a fun trip."

Castiel just stared at him.

"Cas, are you sure this is what you want? You're gonna die at, what? Twenty-seven? What's your brother gonna think about that?"

"My brother will be _alive_," Castiel growled, getting to his feet. "Now are we going to make this deal or do I have to summon another demon?"

Not a chance in hell was Dean gonna let any other demon kiss Castiel. As much as he didn't want to make this deal, Castiel had made up his mind and there was nothing Dean could to to change it.

"Okay, okay. You get ten years. _Maximum_. I'm serious, man - be careful. If you get run over tomorrow you don't get a second chance."

"I understand."

Dean licked his lips, his gaze dropping to Castiel's pink lips. "Now, uh, we just need to seal the deal."

Castiel held out his hand.

Dean smiled, and shook his head. "A deal like this, it takes a lot more than a handshake."

Castiel actually _blushed_. "How much more?" he asked boldly.

Shit, Dean could tell him they needed to fuck and he'd simply spread his legs. "We gotta kiss."

"Kiss?" Castiel echoed, for the first time looking doubtful.

"Kiss," Dean repeated, his voice turning husky. "You ever kissed anyone before?" he asked, already knowing the answer because souls don't lie.

Castiel shook his head, obviously embarrassed. "Does it matter if I'm not any good?"

"No," Dean said, and Castiel was visibly relieved. He was surprised to hear himself continuing, "But I don't think you'll be _that_ bad."

Castiel turned even redder, the tips of his ears turning pink at the compliment.

Dean smirked, and stepped closer. Castiel didn't move forwards, but he didn't move away either, allowing Dean to close the distance between them. "Last chance, Cas," he murmured, cupping the human's chin and tilting his face up.

Castiel surged forward, pressing their mouths together.

Dean cupped Castiel's face in both hands, biting at his lower lip and licking into his mouth. Castiel moaned at the intrusion, clumsily mirroring Dean's movements. Dean couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this alive, brushing one hand through Castiel's hair, fisting it in his fingers, while his other hand travelled lower to squeeze his ass. He doubted Castiel knew what to do with his hands, clutching tightly onto the lapels of his suit.

As Cas's mouth relaxed, letting instinct take over, Dean became less hurried and demanding. The deal was done, so now he could enjoy himself. He sucked at Castiel's bottom lip, resting his hands over Castiel's until their grip loosened and moving them to his shoulders. Taking the hint, Castiel dragged his fingers through Dean's hair, before cupping Dean's jaw in his hands and nipping at his lip. Dean growled. He'd never wanted anything as much as he wanted to lie Castiel down in the dirt and simply take him right there.

But he could feel himself being summoned somewhere outside Seattle.

"Deal," Dean breathed, resting his forehead against Castiel's. When he looked at him, hair messed up and looking completely debauched, his stomach twisted at the tarnish on his soul. "You be good, okay?"

"Will it be you?" Castiel blurted out, his words stopping Dean from disappearing.

"Me?"

"Who comes for me?"

Dean clenched his jaw. "No."

"Oh."

Castiel looked almost sad at that, but Dean told himself that it was his imagination.

"But maybe I'll see you around," he shrugged, not for one moment believing that he actually _would_.

And then Dean was gone, leaving Castiel standing, all alone, in the middle of the crossroads.


End file.
